


The Past Does Not Define

by katling



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 00:44:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3337904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katling/pseuds/katling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec Trevelyan has never been a responsible person. He has never wanted to be a responsible person. But the glowing green mark on his hand and the persistent story that he's the Herald of Andraste mean that responsibility is his whether he wants it or not. He discovers that your past does not need to define who you are now or who you will be in the future.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This is a collection of ficlets based around Alec Trevelyan, my male rogue archer Inquisitor, who has been created for a specific sort of playthrough. Basically the one with that really awful decision at Adamant because this playthrough and this Inquisitor will be the background for my potential Big Bang fic. So I've been writing a lot of backstory stuff for Alec. This will be a Dorian romance though it's pretty slow burn through the first part because Alec recruits the Templars. The first few chapters are background and his early dealings with other companions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Alec Trevelyan leaned against the railing of the ship and sighed heavily. The weather was in their favour… or so the sailors had told him… and they were making good time towards Fereldan. Not that he wanted to go to Fereldan in the first place but apparently even his notoriously lenient father had some limits. He sighed again and brought his fingers up to prod at the new tattoo that dotted around part of his left eye. It was so new that the skin was still sore and he quickly pulled his fingers away. Who knew that one small tattoo would be the straw that broke the druffalo’s back?

“Trevelyan.”

Alec looked up to see the captain of their small cohort of guards, loyal Templars, mercenaries and… well, _him_ … that had been pulled together to guard the Ostwick clerics who were attending the Conclave standing beside him. He quickly straightened up, looking guilty and flustered. He really had no idea how he was supposed to act towards this man. It wasn’t like he’d ever been in this situation before in his life.

“Er… Captain.” His hands twitched like he thought he should salute but didn’t know how.

The Captain was looking him over with resigned disapproval and Alec fought the urge to wince… or worse, say some that would get him labelled a smartmouth. It wasn’t easy. He had a well-earned reputation for being a smartmouth. He’d spent most of his life being a smartmouth. Sure, it had gotten him in trouble a few times, hence the scars on his face, but generally people found him funny and he got away with it.

The Captain did not look like the sort of man who would find him funny. He looked like the sort of man who was wondering if he could throw Alec over the ship’s railings and get away with it if he came up with a good enough excuse. Considering how angry Alec’s father was, he wasn’t sure he’d _need_ much of an excuse.

Then the Captain’s expression relaxed and he sighed. “At ease, Trevelyan. I’m not going to bite.” He leaned against the railings in much the same way Alec had been and Alec gingerly joined the Captain. “I did want to get some introductions done and have a chat. You were thrown into our little group so late, we never had the chance to do that. So… I am Captain Leopold Havren. You are Alec Trevelyan, youngest son of Bann Trevelyan and, according to the guards amongst our numbers, a smartarse, a rabblerouser and waste of a good person.”

Now Alec did wince. That description was… all true and less than flattering. He rallied though. “I like that sort of introduction,” he said with a faint echo of his usual smirk. “I didn’t have to do any of the work.”

The smirk died at the flat look the Captain directed at him. He’d never allowed himself to be cowed by any of the City Guard in Ostwick but he’d always had his father metaphorically standing behind him there. Ready to bail him out or otherwise smooth whatever feathers Alec had ruffled. He didn’t have that here and he was starting to feel the lack.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Trevelyan,” Havren said sharply. “I took you on because I was ordered to, not because I wanted a spoiled brat of a noble around. I don’t know what strings your father pulled to get you here but I really wish he hadn’t. We are on our way to the Conclave. There are going to be mages and Templars there and none of them are going to be in a good mood. Many of them are going to be out for each other’s blood and just looking for an excuse to do so. We don’t need a smartarse stirring things up and causing trouble.” He glared at Alec. “Do you understand me?”

Alex bit back the automatic response that wanted to crawl out of his mouth and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The Captain gave him a long suspicious look then finally nodded. “Good. Now, I want to know what got you here.”

Alec winced and hung his head a little. He sighed and raised his head, turning it a little so the tattoo was revealed. He pointed at it. “This did.”

“A tattoo?” The Captain looked sceptical.

“I… the last straw?” Alec said with a wan smile. “I was supposed to be meeting Lady Janice Kinmond in two days with an eye to… you know… _marriage_. She’s notorious for disliking tattoos. Calls them the markings of brainless thugs and incompetent fools.”

The Captain’s expression was highly sceptical. “You got a tattoo in order to get out of meeting a woman?”

“Well, not as such,” Alec said awkwardly. “I mean, it was _a_ reason. I _was_ kind of anxious to stymie my parents’ plans since I don’t actually like women. I mean, I like women. They’re lovely people, I have many friends who are women but I don’t _like_ women, if you get what I mean.”

“I get what you mean,” the Captain said dryly. “So what were the rest of the reasons?”

Alec shifted his weight from foot to foot and gave a small wry smile. “I was drunk… not so drunk the tattooist wouldn’t take my money but drunk enough to think it was a good idea. Everyone else was doing it. I thought the design looked good. My friends egged me on.” He shrugged. “Take your pick.”

“And that’s why your father sent you with us.” The Captain looked dubious.

“Straw that broke the druffalo’s back, apparently,” Alec replied ruefully. “There is also the possibility he wanted to get me out of the house so that my mother didn’t string me up by my cods for ruining her plans.” He raised both eyebrows. “And given it’s my mother we’re talking about, that was a definite risk.”

The Captain snorted with faint amusement and then sobered. “They tell me you’re a good archer and a decent man despite all your shenanigans. You seem smart enough to be able to learn to follow orders. Do that and keep your nose clean and you might actually get out of this with a recommendation that could take you somewhere other than wherever you’ve been wallowing.”

A smart comment wormed its way up from Alec’s brain but he quickly swallowed it. He wasn’t in Ostwick anymore and his father wasn’t around to get him out of trouble. He was on his own now and he honestly didn’t like the feeling. He was under the command of this man and he had the distinct impression that Havren could make his life very difficult if he was of a mind to. Or, if Alec toed the line, he could make it very easy.

Alec stood straight and with a reluctant half-smile, he saluted. “Yes, sir.”

Captain Havren snorted but also straightened and returned the salute. “First things first, Trevelyan. I’m going to teach you how to salute properly.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a little background about waking up in the cell. What Alec was thinking and what he remembers.

When Alec woke, the first thing he was aware of was that he _ached_. All of him and especially his left hand. The second thing was that he could feel cold iron around his wrists and he could hear the shuffle of booted feet and the clink of armour nearby. The third and probably the scariest thing was that couldn’t remember what had happened to him to make him ache and have him in irons.

He prised his eyes open and found that he was lying on his side on a stone floor, which he supposed explained some but not all of the aching. The feel of cold iron around his wrists was explained by the shackles he was wearing and the shuffle of booted feet and the sounds of armour by the armed soldiers pointing their swords at him. He groaned under his breath and shifted so that he was kneeling. He didn’t dare risk anything more. The soldiers had glared and tensed enough at that much movement. Maker only knows what they’d do if he tried to get up. From the look of them, probably run him through and apologise later. What was it that they thought he’d done?

That was when the green glow on his left hand captured his attention. He slowly turned his hand over and stared at the glowing green mark in the palm of his left hand. As he did, the colour slowly drained from his face and he actually felt a bit faint. What in the name of Andraste’s left butt cheek was that thing? Where had he got it? Why did it hurt?

It suddenly flared and flashed and he couldn’t help the pained sound that escaped him. What had happened to him? He couldn’t remember anything after…

_"Hey, Trevelyan! We’re playing Wicked Grace. Wanna join us? I’ve never fleeced a noble before.”_

_Trevelyan grinned at the guard who’d yelled that across the barracks room they’d been assigned. He’d just come off duty and he was glad of it. The level of tension in the air around the Temple was almost unbearable and right now he disliked Templars and mages in equal measure. He certainly couldn’t see how they were ever going to come to any kind of agreement. Pig-headed bastards, the lot of them._

_But the cadre of assorted troops he’d been thrown into were alright. He’d gotten to know them on the ship on the way here and while they’d been suspicious of him at first… and not without reason… his decision to shove his pride in a box and actually ask for help in getting used to working with a group like this had gone a long way to becoming accepted by them. He wasn’t the snot-nosed spoiled noble brat they’d been expecting. Well… he was but he was a snot-nosed spoiled noble brat who had enough intelligence to know when he needed to shut up and keep his head down. They’d even come to appreciate and like his tendency to be a smartmouth._

_“You mean you’ve never been fleeced by a noble before,” he said with a waggle of his eyebrow that probably looked more ludicrous than anything else._

_“Does that mean you’re in?”_

_Alec shook his head. “Nah, I’m going to go for a walk. Clear my head. These fucking mages and Templars are doing it in.”_

_The guard laughed. “Yeah, we should set fire to the lot of them. Do the world a power of good if we did.”_

_“I’m not going to disagree with you,” Alec said with a laugh. “You can deal me in when I get back.”_

_“No problems.”_

He remembered leaving the barracks and then… nothing. No, wait… he remembered… running… being chased… and a woman. A glowing woman. He shook his head. What in Andraste’s name was that meant to mean?

Before he had a chance to continue that thought, the door to the cell opened and two women, one obviously a warrior, the other less easily defined, walked in. They did not look friendly and he began to suspect he was in a lot of trouble. And when the warrior spoke, he _knew_ he was in a lot of trouble. He just wished he could remember what he was supposed to have done.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is set just before they head to Val Royeaux to meet the Chantry, the mages and the Templars. A bit of introspection and internal panic from Alec and some good advice from Cassandra.

Alec sighed as he wandered away from the Inquisition’s campsite below Lake Luthias. He didn’t go far, certainly not out of sight of the soldiers, just over to the weird skull on a stick they’d found. He looked over the view of the Hinterlands but he wasn’t really seeing it. The last few days had been some of the most bizarre of his life and he still hadn’t quite wrapped his mind around it.

He was, apparently, the Herald of Andraste. The only person who could close the rifts and the Breach. An agent of the Inquisition, trusted to lead a small team out into the Hinterlands to raise the profile and reputation of the Inquisition so that they could gain the help of either the mages or the Templars in closing the Breach.

He sometimes wondered if this was some kind of joke or perhaps a dream and he was going to wake up at any moment and find himself back in his bedroom in Ostwick, ready for another day of avoiding anything remotely resembling responsibility. 

And therein lay the problem. He didn’t exactly have a close relationship with responsibility. Or duty. Or leadership. Or anything like that really. The words ‘layabout’, ‘spoiled brat’, ‘lazy’ and ‘irresponsible’ had always been a better fit. It wasn’t that he’d liked being thought of so poorly but all that responsibility and duty that he saw his brothers and sisters grappling with just looked so _boring_.

He couldn’t tell how many times in the last few days he’d been tempted to just chuck this all in and run screaming for the hills. He might have actually done that if he wasn’t halfway convinced that Cassandra would track him down and drag him back by his ankles. Having the fate of the world on his shoulders was nothing short of terrifying and he didn’t want it. But he found that he just couldn’t walk away. Apparently some of that responsibility and duty his father and older brothers had been hammering at him over the years had managed to worm its way past his barriers despite his best efforts to avoid it. He had this mark and he was the only one who could close the rifts and the Breach. If he didn’t, he suspected it wouldn’t matter how far he ran, he and everyone else in the world would be dead.

“Herald?”

Alec gave a start and turned to see Cassandra walking up towards him. She joined him and stood by his side.

“I don’t suppose you could call me Alec,” he said, a little plaintively. “I’m starting to forget that’s my name.”

He saw a gleam of amusement in Cassandra’s eyes. “Perhaps,” she said then she frowned. “Are you alright?”

Alec swallowed the words that threatened to spill out then sighed. “Yeah, sure, I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

“You are lying.” It wasn’t an accusation, just a simple statement of fact.

Alec sighed again and his shoulders slumped. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.” Cassandra’s blunt statements left him nowhere to go. He was used to questions and demands and being able to dance around them and evade. Cassandra didn’t allow him to do that. “The Inquisition needs you.”

Alec grimaced. “Yeah, I bet it does.”

“Alec?”

Alec just slumped where he was standing, the use of his name disarming him more than anything else could have. “I’m not good at this, Cassandra. I screw things up. I screw around. I don’t lead people and I don’t… do this.”

“I know what you were like in Ostwick,” Cassandra said and Alec stared at her in surprise. He thought she hadn’t read the reports. Obviously she’d changed her mind after their talk. She gave the tiniest of smiles. “Leliana insisted.”

“Great,” Alec said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “So you know what a useless waste of space I am. The great disappointment of House Trevelyan.”

Cassandra was silent for a moment and Alec couldn’t bring himself to look over to see the expression on her face. Probably disdain or contempt. He was used to that.

“It is true that your past has been… less than exemplary,” she said, picking her words carefully. 

Alec snorted. “That’s one way of putting it and thank you for being diplomatic, Cassandra.”

“ _However_ …” He could almost feel Cassandra’s glare on the side of his head. “Since you sealed the Breach, neither I nor anyone else has had any reason to think you unworthy of your part in this. We may not always agree with your decisions but we do not always agree with each other’s decisions either. It is not a criticism, merely the result of people of differing backgrounds and philosophies working together. You have achieved what was necessary. You have done well and improved the standing of the Inquisition. You are, perhaps, not who we would have chosen had the decision been in our hands but you have been exactly what we needed when we needed it.”

He wouldn’t have believed unadulterated praise. He’d have thought it a lie and shied away from it. But Cassandra hadn’t done that. She’d given an honest assessment and it made something unclench within him.

“I… thank you,” he said softly.

Cassandra placed a hand on his shoulder. “You are not bound by your past, Alec. It is a part of you but it is not all that you are or all that you could be.”

Alec ducked his head and swallowed hard. He took a moment to collect his thoughts then looked at her. “Thank you. Though it still doesn’t change the fact that I have no idea what I’m doing here. You know that, don’t you? That I’m just sort of making it up as I go along?”

He was almost surprised when she actually chuckled. The hand on his shoulder gave a small squeeze then she let go.

“What makes you think the rest of us are not doing the same?” She chuckled again at his expression. “Alec, there are no rules for this. All we can do is what we think is best and hope that we do not fail.”

“I’m not sure that’s actually very reassuring.”

“Josephine could teach you about diplomacy, Leliana about spying and secrecy, Cullen and myself about leadership but in the end, when you or any of us make a decision, it is done only on what we know at the time.” She shook her head. “And we can never know everything. Sometimes the decisions we make will be wrong. It happens. We can only accept that and move on and do our best not to make that mistake again.” She gestured towards the Breach, which from the Hinterlands looked deceptively small and calm. “But we must close the Breach. That is our priority.”

Alec stared up at the Breach then sighed. “Do you think we’re in a position to go to Val Royeaux?”

“I believe we may be,” Cassandra replied. “I do not know what it will achieve, if it will achieve anything at all, but we must try.”

Alec nodded and looked down at the mark on his hand. Maybe if he went to Val Royeaux with the air of someone who was the Herald of Andraste instead of the Trevelyan’s disgrace of a son, it might help. Maybe that change in attitude might help with a lot of things. It was certainly something worth thinking about.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is set after the trip to Therinfal Redoubt and the meeting with Envy. Since the companions get to have their say when you go and recruit the mages and you get massive disapproval from Solas if you choose to ally with the Templars instead of disbanding them, I headcanon that the companions also had their say at Therinfal and Solas was... disapproving. Also Solas is really hard to write but I like him too much to leave him out.

Alec wandered around Haven, his cloak wrapped tightly around him. The village was almost deserted at this late hour of the night and he was glad for the silence. Or at least, he thought he was. He wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted company or not. He just knew he hadn’t been able to get to sleep and lying in his bed had been achieving precisely nothing other than getting himself tangled in the blankets.

He couldn’t get the events at Therinfal Redoubt out of his mind. He’d chosen to seek out the Templars first because Cassandra had been so adamant that something was wrong with Lord Seeker Lucius. And Cullen had been a Templar. He respected and liked both of them and that combined with some lingering unease about magic had prompted him to approach the Templars first. He’d figured that if it didn’t work out with Lucius, he could always go to Redcliffe and speak to the mages.

But instead they’d walked into a disaster and worse, he’d ended up playing host to the envy demon in his own mind. He shuddered and wrapped his cloak a bit tighter around himself. He wasn’t sure what had been worse – actually experiencing that or having to describe it to Cassandra and the others later. He’d stumbled over the description of the envy demon taking on the appearances of Leliana, Cullen and Josephine and what the envy demon versions of them had said and done like he was a stripling lad in his first ever lesson. _They’d_ taken it with a fair amount of equanimity but then, they hadn’t been the ones to witness it.

And then to witness those scenes of him taking the Inquisition down such a horrible path. He knew he’d never do anything like that. Not that he could really influence the direction the Inquisition took. He wasn’t its leader, just the poor sap who had ended up with a magical mark on his hand.

He wandered past the now-silent tavern and up the stairs, his mind lost in the memories and it wasn’t until someone caught his arm, that he realised he’d nearly walked into Solas.

“Maker! Solas, I… I’m sorry,” he stammered, blushing despite the cold.

“That’s quite alright, Herald,” Solas replied with a small amused smile. “You seemed lost in thought. Should you not be asleep at this hour?”

“I… could say the same to you,” Alec replied.

Solas chuckled. “Yes, you could. I found myself unable to sleep. It is most disconcerting.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Alec said dryly. “I… can’t stop thinking about what the envy demon showed me.”

Solas nodded, seeming unsurprised by the revelation. “A certain amount of reflection is wise but you must not allow his illusions to gain power over you.”

Alec nodded then looked at Solas curiously. “Are all demons spirits that have been corrupted or can a demon just be… created that way?”

He flushed when Solas gave him an approving look. The elf reminded him of the one tutor he’d had that he’d actually liked. The one who had always taken time to explain lessons to him when he was confused and had made them interesting rather than a chore. He’d gone out of his way to try and gain that man’s approval and now he found himself doing the same with Solas. Not that he did everything that Solas might approve of. The elven mage had not been entirely happy with his decision to ally with the remaining Templars instead of disbanding them.

“That is an interesting question,” Solas replied. “There are many schools of thought on the subject. The two predominant ones are… yes and no.”

The other way that Solas was like his former tutor was that he had a tendency to give half-answers and expect Alec to solve the rest of it.

“So… one school thinks that all demons are spirits that are corrupted somehow and the other thinks that some demons are just that way from the start?”

“Precisely,” Solas said with a nod.

“Which do you think?”

Solas looked thoughtful. “I think both of the predominant schools of thought are rather simplistic. It is certainly true that I have encountered only spirits in my wanderings in the Fade but then I expect to encounter spirits. The Fade and the spirits who dwell within it are very sensitive to our expectations. If I expected to encounter demons then the Fade and the spirits would provide. But that does not mean that demons do not exist on their own, without our expectations. Just because it has not been seen or experienced does not mean it is not true.” He cocked his head slightly. “You do realise this argument has a parallel with people?”

Alec frowned. “You mean… are people born bad or does the world and their experiences make them that way?”

“Precisely.” Solas gave another of those small approving smiles. “In many ways, the Fade and the living world are reflections of each other. The difference being we cannot influence the living world in the same way we can influence the Fade.”

“I sometimes wish we could,” Alec said then he sighed. “Except it wouldn’t work, would it? We each see the Fade differently when we dream but if we could all influence the world in the same way, it’d be chaos.”

“Regrettably, yes,” Solas replied. “It is true that a person or people can change the world but it does tend to be a slower and far more laborious task than simply willing the Fade to be how we wish.”

“That’s what we’re doing now.”

“We are.” Solas gave him a measuring look. “And you will have a large hand in that, both literally and figuratively.”

“Me?” Alec said with surprise. “I… I’m just here to close the Breach.”

“You think so?” Solas looked faintly amused. “It was not Cassandra or Cullen or any of the others who made the decision about the Templars. It was you.”

Alec looked startled. “I’m not a leader, Solas. I never have been.”

“Just because you have not been a leader in the past does not preclude you becoming one in the future.”

“I…” Alec ran a hand down his face as he tried to shove down the panicky feeling Solas’ words had engendered. Despite his show of confidence at Val Royeaux, he still had doubts about his ability to handle any of this. Unfortunately he seemed to be the only one who thought so. “I’m not good at this, Solas.”

“On the contrary, you are doing well.”

“I am?”

Solas smiled again. “Indeed. You are willing to seek the opinions and counsel of those of us who accompany you but you are not commanded by us. You make your own decisions. You show a level of compassion that is honourable, yet you do not hesitate to act if it is necessary. You respect those with differing opinions and do not require they agree with you. It is a rare trait in a leader. I have seen many far worse in the Fade.”

Alec couldn’t help the blush that Solas’ words caused. It was strange seeing his actions described in such a way. He’d just been trying to do his best.

“I…” He decided to change the subject a little. “You didn’t agree with my decision regarding the Templars.”

“At the time, no,” Solas replied. “But on further reflection, I find myself less of that opinion.”

“Templars are bound to their duty,” Alec said. “I spoke to Cullen about this. I know sometimes that… dedication can be twisted and perverted… _has_ been twisted and perverted… but it’s very strong in them. Disbanding them would have robbed them of that purpose right when they needed it the most. They’ve had some of the very foundations of their order fractured and shaken. They need that repaired, not broken entirely.”

“That was the direction my thoughts had been taking since our return to Haven,” Solas admitted. “My opinion at Therinfal Redoubt was a rash one, based on little more than emotion. I am ashamed to have expressed it.”

Alec shook his head. “No, don’t. It... helped actually. To have that opinion spoken aloud. It reminded me that the Templars who helped us weren’t the ones who made the decisions. They were victims in this as much as anyone else.”

“Should I continue to voice ill-thought opinions in the future then?” Solas said with some amusement.

“Maybe,” Alec said with a laugh. “But only if you want to. Well-thought opinions are useful as well.”

Solas chuckled. “Perhaps I shall give you both, for proper perspective.”

Alec laughed again then settled. “Thank you, Solas.”

“For what?”

“I think my head is a bit clearer now.”

“Ah, then, you are welcome. I confess I feel much the same. Shall we perhaps both try to sleep again?”

Alec smiled. “That sounds like a good idea. Thank you, Solas, and good night.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is the obligatory post-Haven destruction piece and finally here is Dorian.

The first thing Alec became aware of was pain. The second thing was a vague sense of surprise that he was alive enough to feel pain. He opened his eyes and groaned as he rolled onto his side and looked around. He was in a cave of some sort. Alive and… bruised and battered. Alive though. That was a bonus. After facing a darkspawn magister, a dragon who might be an archdemon and bringing an avalanche down on his own head, alive was a pretty good state of affairs.

He levered himself to his feet and groaned in pain. Every single part of him felt bruised and battered though he didn’t think he was any more injured than that, thank the Maker for small mercies. And his hand _hurt_. The mark… the anchor… hurt. It was glowing green and didn’t seem inclined to move to the more quiescent state it usually existed in when he wasn’t around rifts. Whatever Corypheus had done to it had made it feel different, feel painful.

He clenched his hand into a fist and slowly made his way to the entrance of the cave. A glance upward showed him that he was damn lucky to be alive in another way. Somehow the avalanche had sealed the roof of the cave like a cork in a bottle instead of crashing in after him. Which at least meant nothing was likely to follow him from that direction. He was eager to get out from underneath it though. It didn’t look entirely stable.

He limped through the caves and wondered where the others were. If he could believe the flaming arrow he’d seen, they were safe. He hoped they were, especially Cassandra, Blackwall and Solas. He was glad they’d been able to get away before the dragon had cut off any escape in that direction. Though, on the other hand, it might be nice to have someone to lean against right now.

He made a sound of despair when he encountered the demons but then his hand twitched and roiled and reacted to them. He realised that something really _had_ changed with the mark and he held out his hand like he was going to close a rift. Only this time instead of closing a rift, he _created_ one. Just a little one but enough to destroy the demons and drag them back in. When the rift faded he stared down at his glowing hand with a stunned look on his face. 

“Maker, what’s happening to me?” he muttered. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of it. 

He forced himself to keep moving and emerged into a snowstorm. The icy chill lanced through him but he made himself move. He could see a broken burning cart just ahead of him. A sign of those who’d gone before him. If there was one sign, he was likely to find another but only if he moved fast. The snowstorm would cover things up quickly.

It got harder and harder to move through the storm as the cold began to sap his strength. He’d never been in snow like this and he knew he wasn’t dressed for it. His armour was warm enough for travelling to and from Haven but not this sort of weather. He could feel his reflexes slowing and he’d lost the ability to feel his feet a while ago. It made walking difficult.

When he stumbled over the embers of a fireplace, he nearly sobbed with relief. If the embers were still warm then the others couldn’t be far away and when he rounded the outcropping of rocks and saw the lights of the fireplace, he sank to his knees. He didn’t hear Cullen and Cassandra approach over the rush of relief in his ears but he felt them grab at his shoulders.

“’M okay,” he mumbled, listing to one side slightly.

“No, you’re not,” Cullen said with a small chuckle. “But you are safe.”

“Safe. Good.” Alec nodded then he just couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

************

Dorian looked up as the Commander carried the Herald into camp. He didn’t feel quite the same level of relief as many of the others in the camp did to see the Herald alive but he certainly felt _some_ relief. He’d had enough suspicious looks and outright hostility directed at him to know that his presence was on sufferance and only because the Herald had accepted him. It was a bit galling but not surprising.

“Damn, he’s freezing,” he heard the Commander say.

“We must get him warm or we will lose him.”

Dorian rose to his feet, shivering in the chill air. He wished he’d had the foresight to grab a cloak or even just a shirt before he’d gone haring off to Haven but there hadn’t been time. He’d had to leave everything he’d had with him, which admittedly hadn’t been much, behind.

He made his way over to where the Herald had been placed. “Perhaps I might be able to help?”

He got two very suspicious looks. “How?” the woman – Cassandra, he believed her name was – demanded.

He gave her a tiny smirk and placed his hands on the blankets that had been placed over the Herald. It took only a moment and a tiny fraction of his ability with fire magics to warm them and the Herald sighed and relaxed as the warmth of the blankets seeped into him.

“Like that,” he said with nowhere near as much smugness as he’d usually display. He didn’t want to annoy them after all, not when his presence was barely being tolerated as it was.

They both looked startled at his easy use of magic and then the woman’s eyes narrowed.

“How long will that last?”

“An hour or so.” He rolled his eyes. “And yes, before you ask, I will stay with him and make sure he stays warm.”

“Good,” Cassandra said with satisfaction before she and Cullen hurried off.

Dorian sat down on a stool next to the Herald’s bed and looked down at the man he’d met so briefly. He really was devilishly attractive. Very southern with his pale skin and red hair. And he had such interesting facial scars and a tattoo to boot. Dorian was dying to know all about those. He sighed. He really shouldn’t let his thoughts go down this path. It only led to disappointment.

“Whrr?”

He looked down to find the Herald looking up at him with confusion.

“Ah, you are awake. I wasn’t expecting that for some time.”

“’M warm,” Alec said drowsily and Dorian tried not to think about how adorable the Herald looked when he was drowsy and muzzy.

“Yes, you are and quite a good thing too. You’d make a terrible ice sculpture.”

That got a small smile from the Herald and Dorian couldn’t help but smile back. The young man was truly attractive when he smiled. This was not good.

“How are you feeling other than warm?”

“Like one big bruise,” Alec replied. “And my hand hurts.”

He pulled his hand out from under the blankets and held it up. It was glowing green still. Dorian gently took hold of his hand and examined it with unabashed fascination. He could sense the magic in the mark but it wasn’t like anything he knew. All he really got was a sense of great power.

“How remarkable,” he said with open admiration.

He was surprised when the Herald snorted. “I’m a mistake apparently.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, whoever thinks that is clearly not right in the head. No one as handsome as you could ever be called a mistake.”

He almost kicked himself for saying that but then the Herald did something unexpected – he blushed. And he looked rather shyly pleased. All of a sudden, hope bloomed in Dorian’s chest and try as he might, he couldn’t make it stop. 

“I… uh, I mean, me having the mark… the anchor, he called it.” The Herald’s blush deepened for a moment then he seemed to gather himself. “You know, I never introduced myself. Back in Haven, I mean. It was…”

“It wasn’t really the time or place with an army of Venatori mages descending upon us,” Dorian said. He realised he was still holding the Herald’s hand but since the Herald didn’t seem upset by it, he didn’t let go.

“Yeah. So… I’m Alec Trevelyan.”

Dorian smirked. “Well, I _did_ introduce myself but I shall do so again. I am Dorian of House Pavus, recently of Minrathous. I’m very pleased to meet you even if the circumstances are a bit less than desirable.”

Alec laughed softly. “I’m pleased to meet you too. And thank you. For coming to warn us.”

Dorian sobered. “I just wish I’d been able to get there sooner. I’m afraid Calpernia moved her army a bit more quickly than I anticipated.”

“We got… we got most people out, didn’t we?” Alec asked.

Dorian nodded. “As many as possible. Roderick’s memory was good.”

Alec relaxed a little. “Good. That’s good. It was worth it then.”

“That’s terribly noble of you.”

“I’ve never been good at noble.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow. “You’re a natural then.”

Alec smiled wryly. “My father would be surprised.”

“Fathers often are,” Dorian replied, equally as wry.

Alec closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “Yeah.”

Dorian remembered he was still holding the Herald’s hand and he somewhat reluctantly lowered it to the blankets. “You should sleep. I’ll make sure you stay warm.”

Alec mumbled something unintelligible as sleep quickly claimed him, leaving Dorian to watch over him, lost in his thoughts.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec's having second thoughts about becoming Inquisitor, he really thinks he has to stop staring at Dorian, he gets a letter from his parents and he decides to stand on his own two feet. It's a busy chapter.

Alec leaned against the battlements and watched the work going on in the courtyards of Skyhold with a slightly bemused air. It had only been two days since he had accepted the role of Inquisitor and he _should_ be making preparations to go to Crestwood to meet Hawke’s mysterious Warden friend. Instead he was standing here wondering what the hell he was doing. 

It had seemed to right to accept the sword and the role that came with it at the time but, as usual, once he’d had time to stop and think, all his usual insecurities had come rushing back. This was a bit different to being… well, being part of a leadership group back at Haven. There he had been one voice among many and while his word had held some weight, he knew decisions had been made without his input. But now? Now his word was final. It just seemed so bizarre.

So he’d distracted himself over the last couple of days by inspecting Skyhold and catching up with the rather disparate group of people he’d recruited. He’d spent the most time with Dorian, partly because he wanted to know more about this Tevinter mage who had shown up so unexpectedly and handily and partly because…

He groaned and ran a hand through his air. Alright, yes, he’d admit it to himself even if he would never admit it aloud. He’d spent so much time talking with Dorian for more than just the information he could provide. Dorian was a devastatingly attractive man. Add in the quick wit and the intelligence and he hit just about every point on Alec’s internal checklist titled ‘people I find attractive’. And he could have sworn that Dorian was flirting with him.

He sighed and his shoulders slumped. Of course, from what he’d observed over the last couple of days, Dorian flirted with just about _everyone_ and the fact that he knew that, that he’d been watching the other man closely enough to _know_ that after only two days, just made him wanted to groan and thump his head against the wall. The only thing that stopped him is that he’d probably frighten the guards. He didn’t even know if Dorian _liked_ men or whether he just… flirted with everyone as a standard position.

“Maker, I’m such an idiot,” he said with frustration.

A warm chuckle from behind made him turn in surprise and he saw Cullen approaching, looking amused.

“Aren’t we all from time to time?” the Commander said dryly.

“I just wish I could be less of an idiot,” Alec replied. “It would make life easier.”

Cullen smiled. “I’m… not much of a sounding board but if I can help in any way?”

“No, it’s alright,” Alec said, returning the smile, though his was far more rueful. “I don’t think anyone can help with this.”

“As you wish,” Cullen said with a small nod. “Though that’s not why I’m here. Everything is in readiness for your departure tomorrow. Have you considered who you will take with you?”

Alec was glad for the change of subject. Or at least partial change of subject because the subject in question was about to come up again. He was fairly sure the Commander was going to have some objections to his choices.

“I was planning on taking Cassandra, Solas and Dorian with me.”

Cullen frowned. “Dorian? Are you sure that’s wise? We know very little about him. Leliana has sent people out to find out what she can but we haven’t had anything back from them yet.”

“She hasn’t considered… oh, I don’t know… _talking_ to him?” Alec said dryly. “I did. He’s surprisingly forthcoming about a lot of things if you ask him questions.”

Cullen chuckled. “I think Leliana likes to know everything about a person before she speaks to them.” He sobered. “You trust him then?”

Alec nodded. “I do. He didn’t _have_ to come and warn us, you know. He could have run. Nobody would have known any different if he had. He could have joined the Venatori, which would probably have seemed the more sensible option. Instead he came and warned us and stayed to help. Despite the fact things looked very grim and he knew no one would trust him.”

“Point taken,” Cullen said with a small nod.

Alec opened his mouth to reply but just at that moment, the door to the nearby tower opened and Josephine came hurrying over.

“Ah, Inquisitor, here you are.” She caught sight of Cullen and smiled. “Commander.”

“Ambassador,” Cullen said with a small bow.

“I wasn’t hiding, I promise,” Alec said. “What did you need me for?”

“We have a received a letter that… I felt should be brought to your attention immediately,” Josephine said, picking her words carefully. “I was not certain how you would wish to respond and we may need to move quickly to… head things off, if you so wish.”

“Okay, now I’m starting to get a little worried,” Alec said, raising his eyebrows. “Who is this letter from?”

“Your parents.”

Alec paled and swallowed hard. He hadn’t contacted his parents after the disaster at the Conclave and he hadn’t heard from them either. He knew he should have at least written and told them he was alive but he figured that they already knew and the fact they hadn’t written was message enough in itself.

“Inquisitor? Are you alright?”

Cullen’s concerned question broke through Alec’s panicky thoughts and he looked over at the other man.

“I… we didn’t exactly part on good terms,” he explained. “They… weren’t very happy with me. And I… I didn’t write to them from Haven. I didn’t know what to say. Not that they wrote to me either.” 

He knew he sounded very sulky on that last sentence but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

“Perhaps… you should read their letter,” Josephine said delicately. “It came by bird. They apparently asked the Inquisition’s people in Ostwick to send it along just yesterday.” She held out the letter in question and Alec reluctantly took it and started reading.

_Dear Alec,_

_Your mother and I are so relieved to hear that you are alive and well, though we have had only rumour and stories to go by. I am sorry I haven’t written earlier. As soon as word arrived that you were this Herald of Andraste, bedlam erupted. I’ve had my hands full trying to stop your brothers from marching off to Haven – and now Skyhold – to protect you and every man and his dog in the city seems to think they can curry favour with you by pandering to us._

_But that is all irrelevant right now. We didn’t part on good terms and your mother has been beside herself that the last things she said to you were words of anger. We know you’re busy and coming home is not an option right now. We also know it is not the right time to come and see you, not that your mother’s health would allow her to make such a journey anyway._

_But we both want you to know how sorry we are. You’ve always had a gift for driving us both to distraction and seeing you saunter in with that tattoo and that particular grin on your face set us both right off. We should have dealt with it better. We’re very proud of you, Alec. We know you’ll do well. You’ve always had the potential to be a fine man and we know you will lead the Inquisition well. If there is anything the family can do to help the Inquisition, you need only ask._

_And speaking of that, your brothers are champing at the bit to join you. I can head off Karl and Ian but I’ve little of any weight to hold Erik here. But I can manage if you think it best that he stay out of the way._

_With love,  
Your Father._

Alec didn’t realise he was shaking until he felt Cullen’s hand on his shoulder and he looked up at the Commander and Ambassador with wide eyes.

“I…” He swallowed past the lump in his throat and looked down at the letter again. He’d spent this whole time thinking that they were still angry with him and instead they’d been worrying and regretting their words. And they were _proud_ of him! He didn’t think they’d ever said that to him before in his life. Not that he’d ever really done anything to earn it. But now he felt like some of the weight on his shoulders had been lifted.

“Inquisitor?” Josephine said with concern. “Alec?”

Alec drew in a deep breath then let it out slowly. “I… thought they hadn’t forgiven me. I thought they were still angry at me.”

“Why were they angry at you, if I may ask?”

Alec gave a small laugh. “It all sounds so innocuous when I explain it but it wasn’t really what I _did_ , so much as it was the final straw that broke the druffalo’s back. I managed to tweak their very last nerve, so to speak.”

“But what did you do?” Cullen asked, looking amused.

Alec pointed at the tattoo that partially circled his left eye. “I got this. Two days before I was supposed to meet with a renowned tattoo-hating lady. A meeting that was arranged with the view to a potential marriage.”

“I gather you weren’t enthused about the idea of marrying this lady,” Cullen said with a chuckle.

“No,” Alec said. “I mean, she’s a lovely lady. She’s pretty and intelligent and witty and very skilled at Ostwick’s version of the Game but she’s… a woman.” He blushed and ducked his head, his free hand coming up to run through his hair. “I… my preferences… I… well, I prefer men.”

“Do your parents not know that?” Josephine asked delicately. She obviously did and Alec could only assume that bit of information had been in Leliana’s report on him. It wasn’t as though it was a secret to any of his friends. Or anyone really. He’d never seen any reason to keep it a secret.

Alec blushed again, deeper this time and he couldn’t help the slightly mischievous, slightly mortified smirk that crept onto his face. “I… yes, they do. I… made sure of that by letting them catch me… well, you know.”

Cullen coughed and when Alec looked up, the Commander was blushing and looked caught between amusement and embarrassment. Josephine, on the other hand, just looked amused.

“Anyway,” Alec said firmly. “The marriage would have been very advantageous for both families and they believed she would be open-minded enough to not mind if I… dallied on the side as long as I was discreet but…” He grimaced. “The whole idea just made my skin crawl. Marrying her under false pretences and having to hide my true self. I didn’t like it but my parents weren’t really interested in listening to me at that stage. I think they’d had enough of my antics.” He rolled his eyes. “Which I’m sure you already know about since Cassandra told me about what Leliana did.”

“We do.” Josephine said it with enough sympathy that Alec didn’t bridle at it.

“So when my friends suggested a tattoo… completely independent of this meeting, they didn’t know about it… I sort of jumped at it,” Alec admitted sheepishly. “I _was_ a little drunk, though not so drunk the tattooist would refuse to take my business.”

“And you… sauntered in with a smirk on your face, I gather,” Cullen said, gesturing towards the letter. He obviously read through it when Alec had been so stunned, most likely looking for the reason behind his reaction.

“I believe shit-eating grin would probably be the best description,” Alec admitted ruefully. “I knew they wouldn’t be happy and they really, really weren’t. There was a lot of yelling and even some crying from my mother. My father then pulled some strings and got me assigned to the escort group for the Ostwick clerics. I think he just wanted me out of his sight for a while until the urge to strangle me died down. And that’s how I ended up at the Conclave.” 

“It also explains much about his letter,” Josephine said with a smile. “No doubt you will wish to write to your parents but I believe we can assist with the… people seeking to ally themselves with your family for their own gain.”

Alec nodded. “Yes, please. My father would never come out and ask for help with something like that but the fact that he’s mentioned it means it must be quite bad.” He scratched his head. “And Erik…” He sighed.

“A problem?” Cullen asked.

Alec shook his head. “No… not really. Erik was the brother I got along best with, even if he did keep advising me to straighten myself out. At least he kept it to friendly advice and not nagging. And he’d… he’d be useful. He’s got a position with the Ostwick Guard. He’s very well thought of.” He grimaced. “I’m just not sure if I should put him in this much danger.”

“How likely is he to disobey your father and come here anyway?” Cullen asked, raising an eyebrow.

Alec weighed that up and then laughed. “Very likely. Father can convince Karl and Ian to stay because Karl is his heir and Ian runs half the estate but as long as the Guard-Captain gives leave, he can’t really hold Erik there.”

“We could certainly put him to good use,” Cullen said. “Maker knows I could do with some experienced men to offset the raw recruits and if you wanted to keep him safe, I could find reasons to keep him here.”

Alec was tempted by that then he shook his head. “I appreciate that but I couldn’t do that to him.” He drew in a deep breath then let it out slowly. “No, I’ll tell Father to keep him there somehow. Ostwick is going to need every guard it has, I think.”

He didn’t want to admit that he didn’t actually want any of his family here, not even Erik. He got along well with Erik. He was the only one of his brothers who saw him as anything more than just an irresponsible idiot. But despite that, having Erik here would be falling into old patterns of relying on his family to bail him out. As much as part of him yearned for that, the newer part, the Herald part of him perhaps, knew that wasn’t going to help. It was time for him to stand on his own two feet for once. 

“Very well,” Josephine said with a nod. “Give me your letter once you are done and I shall see it gets to your parents with all haste. In the meantime, I will take steps to shield your family from the worst of those pestering them.”

Alec looked down at the letter in his hand again and this time when he smiled, it was probably the most genuine one they’d ever seen from him. “Thank you, Josephine.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little snippet featuring Alec and Dorian. Dorian likes to complain, Alec knows he's full of it.

“It’s wet, it’s muddy, it’s mountainous and the sea is nauseating… I know, let’s bring _Dorian_.”

Alec grinned at the disgruntled mutter from the man walking beside him. He wasn’t taking the complaints very seriously. The look of quickly hidden disappointment and resignation when he’d suggested bringing Vivienne next time had been enough to tell him that no matter how much he complained, Dorian much preferred to be out with them than stuck back in Skyhold.

“That was my thought process down to a tee,” he said brightly. 

“Of course it was.” Dorian rolled his eyes.

“That and you look good when you’re wet.” Alec somehow managed to plaster a look of pure innocence on his face as he said that and it was completely worth the effort to watch Dorian’s eyes widen the way they did. The sound of disgruntled resignation that came from Blackwall was pretty good too and he could almost feel Solas’ little smirk even without looking behind to where the two of them were walking.

He managed to keep that innocent expression on his face when Dorian gave him a searching look. Dorian had been flirting outrageously with him ever since they’d gotten settled in at Skyhold and while Alec was certainly enjoying it, he was rather at the point where he wanted to know how serious Dorian was about it. Because he _liked_ Dorian. Far more than he probably ought to given the circumstances and the fact that he had no idea whether he was going to survive this thing. While he wouldn’t exactly object to something casual and light-hearted, it wasn’t what he really _wanted_. Unfortunately he had no idea what _Dorian_ wanted or even if he meant the flirting because he did flirt with just about everyone.

So he’d started throwing in more blatant comments like the one he’d just made. Ones that were less ‘casual meaningless flirting’ and more ‘a declaration of intent’. So far Dorian hadn’t taken the bait and Alec might have given up except for the fact that lurking behind the searching looks these comments always got from the other man was a sense of hesitancy and doubt that had him wondering what had happened in Dorian’s past to make him wary of someone expressing open interest.

“Well, of course I do,” Dorian said, recovering most of his normal manner. “I look good in any weather.”

Alec couldn’t disagree with that. He’d seen Dorian with his face raised to the sun, basking in the warmth, and it had taken a fair amount of self-control not to jump the man there and then.

He was just about to reply when movement up ahead caught his eye. “Darkspawn,” he breathed. They’d been hunting darkspawn all day and blocking up the tunnels they were emerging from and this last group had been rather annoyingly elusive.

“Oh, joy,” Dorian said with a roll of his eyes even as he readied his staff and his hands began to glow with the fire magic he was so fond of.

“Wet, muddy, mountainous, nauseating and _darkspawn_ ,” Alec said with a grin as he unlimbered his bow and Blackwall charged past them. “I take you to all the best places.”

“That you do, my dear Inquisitor. That you do,” Dorian said with a laugh then the battle was upon them.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Last Resort of Good Men, Dorian mentions he's off to drink himself into a stupor. This is set later that same night after he's gotten drunk.

Alec pushed open the door of the tavern and paused to let his eyes adjust to the light. The tavern was quiet, unsurprisingly given how late it was. Cabot was behind the bar, cleaning mugs. The barman barely spared him a glance when he walked in, taking only enough time to nod towards a corner of the room. Alec spared him a small smile and headed in that direction.

He found two of the last three inhabitants of the tavern at one of the tables tucked in the corner. Iron Bull was slouched in a chair not far away and he seemed to be standing guard in his own way. He raised an eyebrow as Alec approached.

“Boss,” the huge Qunari said as quietly as he’d ever heard. “Wondered if you might be by given what I heard earlier today.”

Alec might have taken the time to sigh and wonder if he could ever do anything privately in this place but he _had_ kissed Dorian in the middle of the library – so to speak – so he couldn’t really complain. Instead he looked over at Dorian who appeared to be passed out face first on the table. Krem was sitting opposite him, pretending to be drunk as well. For a moment, Alec thought the mercenary lieutenant actually _was_ drunk but the single glance Krem shot in his direction was enough to tell him that it was an act. Or mostly an act anyway.

“How long has he been…”

“Oh, he hasn’t passed out. He’s no lightweight.” There was something in Bull’s tone of voice that spoke volumes about Dorian’s capacity for alcohol and what that might mean then it modulated into something more amused. “I think he’s just decided it’s too hard to sit upright anymore without puking.”

Alec did sigh now. He gave Bull’s shoulder a squeeze of thanks then walked over to the table. He placed a hand on the Tevinter mage’s shoulder.

“Dorian?”

Dorian raised his head and stared at Alec blearily for a moment then he brightened. “Inquisitor!” he said with a surprisingly amount of coherence for someone so drunk. “You decided to join me.”

Alec’s heart constricted at seeing Dorian in this state, though he suspected it was more because of the _reason_ Dorian had wanted to get into this state. 

“Actually I came to make sure you got to your bed. Sleeping on tables isn’t very comfortable.”

Dorian leaned towards him and wrapped an arm around his waist. He kept leaning until he was slumped against Alec then he looked up, resting his chin against Alec’s chest. “I’d much rather be in _your_ bed,” he said with a sinful smirk.

Alec swallowed hard against the surge of want and lust that shot through him at those words, ignoring the grin from Krem and the low chuckle from Bull. Maker knows he wanted that, had wanted it for weeks now, but now was also the absolute _worst_ time to be taking Dorian to his bed, especially if he wanted to keep him there. And he did. He wanted this to be anything but casual.

Then again, Dorian was so drunk that Alec suspected that as soon as he got him somewhere flat and comfortable, he’d pass out. He knew the state Dorian was in, he’d been in it more than once himself, though not for the same reasons.

“You never know, you might get lucky,” he said, pulling Dorian to his feet. He didn’t regret saying that. Either Dorian wouldn’t remember it in the morning and they would continue on down the path they were already treading or he would and they might be able to take a shortcut or two. Though not without Dorian knowing that he wanted more than just a few nights of fun.

“Why, Inquisitor, that was positively forward of you,” Dorian said gleefully, draping himself around Alec.

“Give you a hand, boss?” Bull said, coming up beside them. The Qunari looked immensely amused.

“Hands off,” Dorian said before Alec could reply. The mage was pouting at Bull. “The only one putting hands on him is _me_.”

Alec blushed a little at that. He’d gotten more than enough confirmation that Dorian was interested in him when they’d kissed this afternoon but it was still nice to know that Dorian’s interest also went beyond just kissing.

“I’ll be alright,” he said to Bull.

The Qunari laughed. “Have fun.”

“Of course we will,” Dorian said airily. “I’m always lots of fun.”

“Come on, Dorian,” Alec said, half-carrying, half-dragging Dorian towards the door before he could say anything else that Bull would use to tease both of them. 

The cold air outside the tavern made Dorian grimace and he tried to bury his face in Alec’s neck, which made walking decidedly difficult. But when Alec felt the press of lips against his skin, he found he didn’t mind so much. It was Dorian’s roaming hand that had him hurrying his steps though. That hand drifted from his chest to his stomach and then over his crotch and he was unable to stop the groan that escaped his lips when that occurred.

“Dorian,” he said, licking his lips. “Not here.”

“Oh, very well,” Dorian pouted, shifting his hand back to Alec’s stomach.

Alec manhandled Dorian up to the mage’s rooms without any further trouble. Getting the door open was a minor challenge but he managed. He kicked the door closed behind them and lowered Dorian to the bed. The mage refused to let go and pulled Alec down with him.

“Dorian,” Alec began then he broke off as Dorian’s hot wet mouth closed around his earlobe and his hand slid down to rub his groin. “Sweet Andraste… _Dorian_.” He felt his self-control and willpower eroding at an alarming rate. It had been far too long since he’d had a lover and Dorian’s ministrations felt so _good_. 

“I want to strip you naked and fuck you,” Dorian murmured in his ear, low and dark, and Alec moaned as his dick hardened almost painfully in his trousers.

“Maker, _yes_ … I want… want that.” The words were out of his mouth before he could even think about what he was saying. Then Dorian’s hand closed around his clothed cock and _squeezed_ gently and whatever self-recriminations and better thoughts were rising in his mind were swamped by the surge of pleasure and lust.

Alec threw his head back and moaned, something that greatly pleased Dorian judging by the self-satisfied chuckle he heard in his ear. 

“Look at you,” the mage purred. “You look so wanton. How I’ve wanted you, Alec. You have no idea.”

“I have some idea,” Alec said before pulling Dorian into a deep, searching kiss, any thoughts of circumspection long gone in the haze of desire.

However in the middle of the kiss, he felt Dorian go slack and unresponsive against him and when he pulled back, he saw that the sheer amount of alcohol the mage had consumed this evening had finally caught up with him. And that was also when the knowledge of where they were and what they’d been planning on doing returned to him.

Alec groaned, though this time it wasn’t from pleasure but guilt and mortification. He’d let himself get carried away. He couldn’t believe he’d been planning on taking advantage of Dorian’s emotional state and drunkenness.

“Fuck, I’m such an idiot,” he muttered as he tried to get up. However Dorian’s arms tightened around him and he actually _snuggled_ closer with a little whimper as though Alec leaving was the worst thing that could possibly happen. Alec didn’t have the heart to move and he supposed he ought to stay, if only to make sure Dorian was alright. And to apologise to him in the morning.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here's the follow up to the last chapter. What happens on the morning after.

Alec woke to the sound of a low, rather pain-filled groan coming from somewhere near his chest. As he was fairly sure his chest hadn’t suddenly acquired the power of speech, he forced himself further into consciousness until the memories of the previous night came rushing back in a surge of remembered pleasure… and remembered guilt. He opened his eyes and found that Dorian was still curled around him like he was his one last safe harbour.

“Dorian?” he murmured, running one hand through the mage’s hair.

He saw Dorian stiffen and the man quickly raised his head. Dorian winced against the pain from such a sudden and injudicious movement and then looked mortified as he realised where they were and how they were lying.

“I… Inquisitor… Alec… my apologies…” 

Dorian shifted and tried to get up but Alec refused to let him.

“No, I’m the one who should be apologising, Dorian,” he said quietly.

Dorian let himself be drawn back down to the warm body lying next to him. In truth, he didn’t want to move for many reasons but mostly because it hurt his head far too much to do so and this… this is where he’d wanted to be for so long. He thought it was a sad yet true indictment on his life that he had to be drunk before it happened.

“I do believe I’m the one who got drunk and turned in some sort of clinging barnacle,” he said, trying to make a joke of it. He was surprised when Alec looked away and didn’t smile. Instead he looked intensely guilty.

“How… how much do you remember of last night, Dorian?” Alec asked, looking for all the world like a man about to face the gallows.

Dorian frowned and tried to cudgel his aching brain into submission. It had been a long time since he’d been able to get so drunk he didn’t remember at least the general idea of what he’d done the night before. He knew that wasn’t a particularly good thing but it was at least useful this morning. He remembered going to the tavern and drinking. He remembered his sarcasm getting away from him and nearly instigating a three-way barroom brawl before the Iron Bull and Krem had stepped in and defused the situation then dragged Dorian off to a secluded table. He remembered getting spectacularly drunk with Krem and then Alec had come along and dragged him off to his room where…

He had passed out just as they were getting to the good bit. But he did remember something else.

“I remember what you looked like when I put my hand on your cock,” he said with something that he hoped was closer to a leer than the pained expression it felt like. His headache was not going away.

Alec drew in a sharp breath at that reminder then he flushed and looked miserable again. “I’m so sorry, Dorian. I… I never meant to take advantage of you.”

Dorian frowned in surprise and no little confusion, wishing his head wasn’t hurting so much and he could think better. But even in his current state, he realised that Alec was _serious_. He genuinely thought he’d taken advantage of a drunken, miserable man. He was stunned into silence for a moment. He supposed there was some truth in that. He’d still been shaken by the encounter with his father and he had been horrendously drunk. It could be easily said that he was far too compromised to be making decisions about having sex. But it was hardly the first time something like that had happened. Alcohol often made the night go smoother back home and it certainly offered an excuse when the regrets came in the morning.

But he wasn’t back home, was he? And Alec wasn’t Tevinter. He didn’t view being with a man to be something shameful or abnormal or something to be able to brush away with the excuse of alcohol.

“Alec,” he said, sliding his fingers under the other man’s chin so he could turn it until they were looking at each other. “I have a dreadful headache and I’m positively allergic to syrupy sentiments but there was nothing we did last night that was unwelcome or unwanted. I just regret that I was so drunk that I passed out.”

Alec frowned and brushed his fingers lightly over Dorian’s forehead. “It’s not… It’s not that. At least, it is but it’s also not entirely that. I want…” He bit his lip then met Dorian’s eyes. “I want… to take our time, Dorian. I don’t want to just rush into this. I want…” He looked away. “I sound stupid, don’t I?”

Dorian was stunned. If he’d heard right, it sounded like Alec wanted to… court him. That he wanted this to be more than a simple tumble in the blankets. It was everything Dorian had ever _wanted_ and nothing he’d _ever_ thought he would be able to _have_. It just didn’t happen like that in Tevinter. But then, he wasn’t _in_ Tevinter any more, was he? He wasn’t sure if he was elated or terrified of what Alec wanted. He had no experience with this but he wanted to try.

“No,” he said, caressing Alec’s cheek. “You sound… delightful.” He waited until Alec looked at him then he smiled. He let Alec see that genuine, hopeful smile before he let it shift into something more like his normal smirk. “You also sound incredibly frustrating but somehow I like that idea as well. It must be something in the Southern air.”

Alec’s brilliant smile was worth every minute of frustration and blue balls that was likely to come in his immediate future. So too was the kiss he received.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently Leliana thinks they should talk about a certain incident that was key to Alec becoming Inquisitor.

Alec frowned down at the report from Knight-Captain Rylen. While he normally appreciated the man’s blunt style of report writing, this was one time he could have done with more information. He scribbled a quick reminder on it to go and see Cullen about it tomorrow. Maybe the Commander could translate Rylen’s brevity into something that made sense. At the very least Cullen could request more information.

He looked over at the pile of reports he still needed to read and sighed. He hated paperwork with a passion but he had no choice but to get this done. Josephine had very politely threatened him with dire consequences if he didn’t start working his way through all of this and get some of the decisions down to her.

“You look like you’re about to drown in paper.”

Alec looked over to where Dorian was lounging on his couch, a book propped up on his knees. One of the best things that had come out of that drunken night after they’d returned from meeting with Dorian’s father was that the mage had become a regular guest in Alec’s rooms of an evening. He would read while Alec worked and then when Alec finally gave up, they would sit together and talk. And kiss. And grope and fondle. 

They never went further than that. Alec had been serious when he’d said that he hadn’t wanted to rush this and while it was always a wrench to let Dorian leave, he did so anyway. And he strongly suspected that Dorian was enjoying this far more than he let on. Not that he thought they’d linger in this stage for too much longer. It was getting harder and harder for both of them to pull back each time. 

“I feel like it,” he said with a sigh. “And here I thought being the youngest son would mean I’d never have to do anything like this.”

“Ah, but you’re not the youngest son now. You’re the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste.”

Alec made a sour noise. “Can I abdicate those titles?”

Dorian chuckled and set his book aside. “Not while you’re the only one with a green glowing mark on his hand. Now, come here. You look about ready to tear your hair out and we can’t have that.”

Alec was all too willing to leave his desk and settle on the couch with Dorian. The mage pulled him down to lie between his legs, his back against Dorian’s chest. He sighed and let the frustrations of the day slowly bleed out of him, something that became all the easier when Dorian wrapped his arm around him.

“I’ve been meaning to ask something,” Dorian said after a moment. “And do feel free to tell me to sod off if you don’t want to answer.”

“That’s an interesting start,” Alec said dryly. “Fire away.”

Dorian hesitated and Alec wasn’t entirely surprised at the question when he continued. “Do… do your parents know? That you… prefer men?”

“Yes, they do,” Alec replied.

“And yet…” Dorian began to trace little patterns on Alec’s chest. “A little bird told me that your parents were trying to marry you off. To a woman.”

Alec rolled his eyes, wondering what had prompted Leliana to tell Dorian that. No doubt she had convoluted reasons of her own that would probably make no sense to him if he asked. Or she simply thought it was beyond time for him to tell Dorian about that.

“They were,” he admitted ruefully. He caught Dorian’s hand and brought it up so that he could kiss the palm. “They weren’t trying to be cruel or anything like that. I think… they just wanted me out of the house and… and being responsible. They’d had more than enough of my behaviour.”

“I thought you said it was mostly mischievous.”

Alec grimaced. “Well, it was mostly. We never broke any _major_ laws. Just… small ones. Disturbing the peace and public drunkenness mostly.” He grinned wryly. “Exposing ourselves in public. Minor fracas with unsavoury sorts we should be staying well away from.”

“Exposing yourselves in public?” Dorian’s voice was full of glee and Alec could only laugh. He’d somehow thought Dorian would latch onto that one. “Whatever did you do?”

Alec groaned and rolled his head so he could look up at Dorian. “Do you really have to know?”

“Oh, yes, I absolutely do,” Dorian said with a wicked grin.

“Maker’s mercy.” Alec laughed. “Oh, alright. Three of us lost a bet. I can’t even remember what the bet was anymore. There was copious amounts of alcohol involved. But the payout was to run naked up the main market street of Ostwick at midday.”

Dorian burst out laughing. “My goodness! That must have been quite a sight for the good ladies and gentlemen of Ostwick. Did they enjoy it?”

Alec was still laughing ruefully. “I think so. Some of them did anyway. Others were appalled. The Guard were just exasperated. My father, on the other hand, was irritated when he came to bail me out.”

“So your parents had decided that to stop you running around naked and getting drunk in public, they were going to marry you off?” Dorian said, his voice still full of mirth.

“Yep.” Alec shrugged. “Lady Janice Kinmond wasn’t someone I knew well but she was the same age as me. She was far more involved in the Game, such as it’s played in Ostwick. Apparently she was willing, though the Maker only knows why. I don’t think I would have been much of a husband to her, in any way, shape or form. She must have known that.”

“Perhaps that was why she was willing?” Dorian suggested.

Alec turned slightly and frowned at Dorian. “What do you mean?”

“I daresay a young noblewoman has more pressure on her to marry than the youngest son of a noble house,” Dorian replied. “Were your preferences well known?”

Alec snorted. “Yes. I made no secret of them. I mean, it’s not that I’ve never had sex with a woman. I have and enough to know that it… doesn’t appeal.”

“Then I can see many reasons why she might find the marriage acceptable,” Dorian said. “Especially if she finds sex with men… or sex in general… unappealing and you were willing to be discreet with your dalliances and behave in general. She receives all the advantages of marriage without any of what she might perceive as the disadvantages.”

“That’s… pretty cold,” Alec said uncomfortably.

“And your distaste for the whole idea wasn’t?” Dorian raised an eyebrow at him.

Alec grimaced. “I suppose you’re right. Then I went and screwed up the whole thing by getting this tattoo.” He gestured towards the marks on his face.

“Is that why you got it? I’d wondered.” Dorian traced the marks with his fingers.

Alec nodded. “She hates tattoos. Considers them the marks of a thug and low-browed moron. It would have scuttled the whole thing the moment she saw them. She’s very firm in her opinions.”

Dorian laughed again and pressed a gentle kiss to the tattoo just beside Alec’s eye. “I take it your parents went wild about it?”

“Yeah. Though I don’t think it was the tattoo specifically but more that I’d screwed things up one time too many.” He leaned into Dorian’s embrace. “There was lots of yelling and the next thing I know, I’m signed up to help escort the Ostwick clerics to the Conclave.”

“Whereupon you became the Herald of Andraste,” Dorian observed.

“Yeah, so if the Maker is responsible for this, he has a lousy sense of humour.”

Dorian was silent for a moment as he caressed the side of Alec’s face, starting with the tattoo and moving down. “I don’t know. If He is responsible, I’m rather thankful.”

Alec looked at Dorian with surprise at the soft words. The mage didn’t often dip into the well of sentimentality, usually preferring to let his actions do the talking and his words shield him from the world.

“I can’t say I’m thankful for the responsibility or the damn anchor or the weight of the world on my shoulders but I am glad I met you,” he said, shifting around so that he was lying on his stomach and they were pressed together more intimately. “This would be so much more difficult without you.”

This close, he could see the way Dorian’s eyes widened with surprise then softened and he could see the fond genuine smile that his words gained. He could also see when Dorian hid those emotions behind his mask.

“Well, of course, it would,” the mage said airily. “I’m very talented.”

Alec smiled, willing to let Dorian escape the emotional side of this conversation for now, and leaned up to kiss him. “Yes, you are.”


End file.
